video killed the radio star
by twinquies
Summary: she finds romance in the most unexpected of places — nejiten, oneshot.


Tenten was running. Running fast.

Her feet were swift on the ground and her steps light as she dashed along the streets of the neighborhood.

Sirens blared in the background.

She was losing ground.

Everything was going wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Pandemonium surrounded her as lights from the buildings beamed on her in bright colors. A ray stuck her in the eye.

She didn't know this part of the city — nor has she been here before. But she knew by the lights and the music that this was the sheerer part of town, where the parties and the bars were, where people drove their cars into and spent time at during late nights.

It had some sense of magic in them, a tingle she can't quite describe. It was driving her mad.

The town went on forever. Music from the bars blared into her ears in a tune she can make out.

 _Oh-woah-oh..._

It was a familiar melody. She would've loved to relinquish with but the din of the sirens grew louder, and she barely held her ground when her leg connected with a trash can with a loud clang.

But the melody resumed in her head.

 _Oh-woah-oh..._

* * *

 **VIDEO KILLED THE RADIO STAR**

by Alex

* * *

 _a/n: this was a hard fic to write. inspired by this post in tumblr highlighting places that are slightly magical. i have no other explanation than what i have to write._

 _10.22.17: looking back at this story, i know now that this story remains very dear to heart. this story would not have been made possible if not for ForHeSoLovedTheWorld. thank you for putting away your time to take a look at this story. all in all, please enjoy and may it stay dear to your heart as it did mine._

* * *

The lights were getting a bit too bright and neon pink stained her eyes. She could barely make out the stars above as her vision was clouded with the sheer brilliance of the colors.

The atmosphere reeked of cheap bars and glowing light.

She's gotta find someplace, somewhere, anywhere. Her legs were barely holding up and she felt like she can collapse any minute.

Her feet still made their mark, though. Mist tainted the air, pooling around her feet, as she slammed into walls and ran over empty sugar bottles. She couldn't see — the lights have already blinded her — and she barely knew what she was doing as she twisted and turned around the corridors.

 _She shouldn't have taken off her hat._

Fluorescent, neon signs spelled out cheap bar titles where she ran past and towering buildings were lit above her. It was the definition of a perfect city — bright, with emitting party vibes until everywhere.

It was almost like Tokyo.

But it also wasn't.

She was terrified.

Though the bars were all still open, life in the streets were different. Like the jingle of life had slowly faded into soft rock, or like the type of music people listen to when they're out of juice and out of songs and they go to that playlist as their last resort, slowing down, taking rest.

It was so different from home. Well, that _place_ wasn't actually her home. It was something people liked calling a boarding school, except it was more of _military_ than _boarding_ to her.

The city was alive but it wasn't lively. Everything was still buzzing about her as she rushed past.

She was still fast, fast enough that she managed to hear the sound of the cars and the helicopters fade out. Everything flew past her, like a rush of memories.

 _I can make it,_ she told herself, and she held no second thoughts as she hoisted herself up a garbage bin.

Her legs wobbled a little as she stepped up. Up there she could see a piece of the city. It terrified her and threw her nerves on end.

Still, she was aware of the cars in her tail and inhaled as threw herself onto the other side of the wall.

 _She can't lose._

She still felt like hallucinating. Like she was drunk. Although unsteadily, she mustered all the might she had left and dashed as quickly as she could towards an empty door and kicked it open.

The force of the kick was strong and it flung her inside.

 _I met your children..._

The ground was tough. Tenten could feel it, but she couldn't see anything except for a brilliant clinical white.

Shaking her head, white spots appeared and disappeared from her vision as she tried regaining her sight. She could only still hear white noise, and the ground was cold.

She tried grabbing for something, _anything_ , and she almost fell as she pressed up on the walls beside her.

The room smelt of moth balls and dead roses.

 _Ouch..._

At first, the room was almost completely dark. It was like one of those rooms you'd enter after taking a jog outside — when you came in, the sunlight is shut off and everything is completely and absolutely dark.

Except for a faint yellow blinking at the end of the room.

She flattened out her trench coat and rose into posture.

As she neared her vision got better, tracing the walls filled with vintage CD racks and albums. Dust floated all around her and the corridor smelt musky and something scary showed up in her head.

It appalled her a little bit.

Nearing the object, she came to realize that the room wasn't as small as she perceived. Old, yellowed papers fluttered underneath her, crumpled as she stepped on them.

The light shone on an old-fashioned record player. It was dusty, but the record was spinning, and it puzzled Tenten a little more seeing how the object was in function.

She bent and her eyes were deeply in focus as she pressed the tone arm down. 70's elektra buzzed in the background.

 _I should be scared_ , she thought, but somehow running was the last thing in her mind. The place intrigued her.

There was this sense of wonder, _magic_ in the air. Like those places where you feel lightheaded, like gas stops where the lights don't work anymore, or rest stops on highways.

It wasn't eerie, though. That was different. It was just that the place gave off an otherwordly vibe that she couldn't quite describe.

Dazed, she allowed her mind to control her step and traced her fingers over the records, letting her fingers drift over the racks and dust flutter around as the light flickered on behind her.

They were curiously compelling for her. The music kept her captivated, and her mind was so bewildered that she forgot all about the sirens chasing after her, the sound of chopper noise and the people yelling out her name.

There was just the music, and the same tune playing in her head over and over again.

 _Oh-woah-oh, you were the first one..._

She grabbed some CDs and stuffed them into her trench coat. She loosened the belt a little, too, and after deciding nobody was there to see her if she unbuttoned it and stuffed the CDs into her pockets instead. She also almost regretted wearing her Chuck Taylors — they were hard to run with — but they were comfortable, at least in the moment.

Excited, she pranced around the room, drawing out drawers and looking in chests, primarily ones she could pry the locks out of. She read the titles of newspapers, and looked at the pictures of circus elephants and train tracks.

The room was almost like a bunker. Almost.

It was a blast from the past, too. It was like she's been pulled out of the present and thrown back to the old wave since she's been in the room.

She imagined people, perhaps people that came to look at the pictures here with eyes filled with wonder and amazement. People who jammed out to _The Beatles_ and _What a Wonderful World_ on cassette tapes placed in old world radios.

Thoughts rushed into her mind. What if she can been here before? It certainly wasn't dead. Everything was filled with things to discover, new and old, and she couldn't help but run around.

She was walking in the streets of yesteryear.

There was this piddling oak table near the far end of the room, and curiosity drew her in as she progressed to it. Perplexed, she pressed her finger to a button and lights lit up in front of her, like the ones attached to mirrors in dressing rooms.

And stopped breathing.

A huge Elvis poster was screwed to the plastered wall. On the table were minifigures of the rock icon icon — dressed in the same timey clothes and made out of wax. There was another turntable and several records. There were postcards and outdated concert tickets scattered about the wall and a picture of a beach in LA was stuck at the very top. Snippets from moments of time.

An album rack sat in the edge and Tenten picked some up.

 _Promised Land... Blue Hawaii... Live in Las Vegas..._ she breathed the names.

She was still holding on into some CDs, working around the room like time stopped ticking, feeling utterly and completely alone, until something caught her attention. It was a figure.

It looked like a man, but it had the most beautiful long hair. She couldn't help but stare at it.

She was having so much fun that she didn't realize it breathed. Instead, she stared at him through the empty, green glass bottle blocking her view. It was wearing headphones, and it was barely moving.

Advancing to it, albeit rather slowly, she realized that the figure was a man.

 _Wow._

 _But wait. W-was it... alive?_

She doubted it. She was in some sort of creepy bunker, after all, and walking in front of the figure she could see how beautiful his face actually was...

And out of curiosity, she reached out.

And held his face.

In her hands.

And then it moved.

"What the _hell_?"

It scared her and it was such a spur-of-the-moment thing that she fell down backwards, bracing herself from crashing into the ground and the papers on it but she didn't.

Firm arms wrapped around her, and she had a second to admire the man's beautiful white eyes, staring back at her, into her, until she slipped on paper and this time she _did_ come crashing into the cold, hard ground.

" _Get off me_ ," she grunted, pushing him off her once she felt his breath on her shoulder. The feel of his chest on hers made her body tingle a little and she hated it.

"Gladly."

They both rose and stood up, him straightening out his sweater and her brushing dust off her trench coat and hoping the light was dim enough for him not to notice her clothing.

"What-"

"What are you-?"

"You go first," he said. His voice was smooth and deep, like dark chocolate.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she finally said, sputtering the words out. He frowned.

"I believe I should be the one asking you that first."

"But you just-"

"Well?"

"Fine..." she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest to make him feel guilty. "I was running away."

His eyebrows furrowed.

"From what?"

"From cars," she answered. She turned back quickly only to realize that the sound of the sirens were far away from earshot. "And helicopters. People are after me."

The man didn't seem to be taken aback at all. He simply looked beside him and it gave her a chance to admire the angle of his chin. He was handsome, but not in the movie-star handsome kind of way.

It was a timely kind of handsome. Like something you'd get out of an antique shop or a victorian house. It had this majestic, old-fashioned tone to it.

"Why?"

"I'm running away," she smiles. She's kind of confident — well, she's _trying_ to be, if she should show this guy off. She doesn't know how but something in her wants to redeem itself. "

I'm supposed to stay in Monsieur Kelp's penitentiary- _err_ , boarding school, for the rest of my life. My parent's will. It's nothing, really."

She liked the way her voice flit on at the end. It made her sound... cool. Out there. Like she could do anything

 _(Because in reality, she couldn't.)_

But she was rich. She could handle the situation.

She noticed her gloves were a bit worn. She sighed. They were high quality leather, after all, and she did treasure them.

Still, the man didn't seem amazed nor alarmed by the information. It usually did — Monsieur Kelp's was an expensive school, meant for only the most high-class citizens. It infuriated her. "Monsieur Kelp's? That's in the other side of the state."

"I know." She smiled again, feeling daring. "I stole a car until they tracked me to here. I said it before — it's nothing really."

Her voice had a certain bite to it.

He only raised an eyebrow in return.

"You're a delinquent."

She bit back a sneer.

"I am _not_."

The man scoffed in reply.

"I don't mingle with delinquents," he said, turning his head to the side. Something in Tenten's internal wiring just snapped loose.

"If I'm a delinquent then what are _you?_ " she yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the boy. "I stole the car to get away from the stupid boarding school. That doesn't mean I'm a bad person."

She was shocked at how defensive she was. She was aware that she was naturally an aggressive person, but she usually didn't treat strangers this way.

"Right," the boy answered. "But now I know where to back off."

"Poo." Tenten stuck her tongue out at him. She didn't like him very much after all.

Something in the boy told her that he was curious. She remembered again why she was here, wondering why she completely forgot about it earlier. Her mind urged her to move, get out of there.

There was a distant drip-dripping followed by an uncomfortable silence. Tenten couldn't help but stare at the boy. She didn't like him, yes, but she knew she was attracted to him.

It was strange, though. She's never fallen for someone so quickly. Well, she hasn't yet. It was just the attraction. Though it could be the music affecting her.

"So," she murmured, straining to change the subject. "What are you doing here?"

"Listening to music," he said, his tone a little deeper. "I come here sometimes."

She looked down at her feet. "Oh."

He chuckled. "Oh."

"I thought you were a statue," she admitted. "You kind of scared me."

He didn't even chuckle. It caught Tenten off-guard because he suddenly yanked her to move. He turned to her. "Do I still scare you know?"

His breath was almost on her ear.

She shivered.

"No," she answered, curtly. She played with the belt of her trench coat as she stepped back.

As she was taught, she stretched out her arm. He looked down on it, suspicion radiating between them, until he held it and gave it a firm shake.

"Call me Tenten," she told him, her mind still fuzzy from the way he held her hand.

He nods.

"Though... I don't know where we are, exactly."

"Hn." He threw her an album. ' _Plastic Age_ ' was spelled out in bold letters. "You're in an abandoned studio."

"A studio?" She looked down. "Like a recording studio? Or like that place in _Paper Towns_?"

"No." He chuckled. It was this velvety, deep chuckle, and it drew Tenten to her toes. "Even better."

Suddenly Tenten found that her hand was being tugged. The boy walked forward and gestured for her to come forward.

She did, and the papers all around her fluttered in her feet as she fumbled to keep up. It was getting darker, and it was getting darker fast, and it was so dark to the point when she couldn't see anything else but grey and the boy's pretty eyes.

"Look."

She heard a switch and dim lights lit up one by one. There was a distinct banging when they did, and they still flickered so the room was now of a dull grey hue. Tenten could see clearer now, though the room wasn't so black anymore, like she was looking through a frizzling television.

The music buzzed on and the color of greyed-out CDs and posters filled the room. There were papers everywhere — plastered on stripping paint of the wall — cracking and ripped at the edges a little.

Papers filled with news, poster papers, post-it notes scribbled hastily. Some with photos of people in it, some were photos themselves, and Tenten could only watch breathless as everything came to light.

Papers filled the floor.

There was a labyrinth of CD magazines beside them, casting long shadows like the light were nonexistent at all. Everything still felt rather hazy and grey, but she couldn't stop to think as Tenten's ease was violated again as she was shown around the place.

Rows upon rows of record labels were displayed before her eyes. A keyboard sat a corner. Cassette tapes were scattered about the floor.

Eyes were focused, looking at papers and picking them up to examine them one-by-one, thumbing the edges and feeling the creases of paper.

"I..."

"Hn."

She'd forgotten he was in the room.

"I... I don't know why. This place... feels magical. Like a weird kind of magical." She explained helplessly. "Why, though? Why do I — I don't know..."

He offered to help. "I'll show you something."

She allowed him to lead her on until they stopped in front of a door, which had one of those handles where it's not a handle and is a long, horizontal handle which you need to push for it to open. And that's what he did — and a second after she was been taken up a stairwell where her feet clanged against the black metal.

It was still dimly-lit, and it felt just as creepily magical as the space before.

"Where—"

"Wait."

She felt cold air and a gust clouded her vision. She was teary-eyed, but once she blinked into the clearing, she was breathless.

"Woah."

The cityscape was breathtaking. She could see all the little lights, all the neon pink and all the colors illuminating the streets. Cold air swept past her, making her bangs sway and her body tingle.

It was the dead of night, and she was bewildered.

Stepping forward, they walked until they were both at the edge of the rooftop, just a few inches short until they'd fall. Her body tensed.

It took her time to suck everything in. She felt like floating in mid-air, if she wasn't now.

The magic dawned on her and reality changed into something she couldn't recognize.

"Liminal spaces." He said. He had moved on beside her, his hands shoved inside his jacket pocket.

"Huh?"

"Liminal spaces." He looked at her. "You mentioned earlier that you sensed something magical about this place. You're in a liminal space. And in liminal spaces, reality is a bit altered."

"Hm," she thought, trying to comprehend. "Altered."

She looked ahead. All the little lights were blinking below her, blurry in her eyes. Suddenly, everything seemed so minimal. Like she was in a dream. She felt something, like smallness, or insignificance. Frankly, it scared her.

She knit her eyebrows, trying to comprehend everything she was told.

"You were running away." His eyes narrowed.. "You were in a hurry, and you fell into the studio to unwind. Like a rest stop. The rush ended when you came here. Liminal spaces are like throughways from one space to the next. That's why places like rest stops, stairwells, trains, parking lots, waiting rooms, airports feel weird when you're in them because their existence is not about themselves, but the things before and after them.

"They have no definitive place outside of their relationship to the spaces you are coming from and going to. Reality feels altered here because we're not really supposed to be in them for a long time for think about them as their own entities, and when we do they seem odd and out of place."

The soft melody resumed it's vigor.

She exhaled. "I... I guess you're right." She tried smiling. "Maybe we're all just insignificant in this world. Liminal spaces frighten me — but not in the horrific kind of way. I think it's because I know something magical is gonna happen."

"We're not insignificant," he answered. Her nerves jolted and her hair stood in it's end — she was getting goosebumps. "Small, yes, especially when we compare ourselves to the scale of the world. But we're not insignificant.

"We all serve a purpose. Or maybe when do the things we can for what time has given us. I—"

She turned to face him fully. The music still buzzed over them. She still can't take her eyes off his — there was something intriguing about them. His eyes are liminal.

Tenten was almost entranced by it.

But cut it off.

"I'm sorry," she blushed. She was vaguely aware that she was. "I don't know your name."

"Call me Neji." The man — _Neji_ , smiled, for the first time since she's seen him. Strangely, she felt completely comfortable with it. They moved to the rhythm, although the music was only playing downstairs.

They could hear it playing, each thinking of the same tune, the same melody.

 _You are..._

The attraction was rising. It was killing her over. There was just something about this guy — Neji. He felt like comfort and something to slow her down from the world. An escape. A throughway, maybe. Like a tunnel leading her to her next journey.

Neji is liminal. Just like his eyes. She should be leaving soon,. He's just another thing in her path that waits for her to journey into the next threshold. He intrigues her. She can write a book about him. He is comfortable and she's eager to find out if he feels the same way.

He's like a space she wants to explore more. Like a warehouse full of little trinkets that are all so unique, she can't explore the whole thing all at once. She has to go back again and again.

Or maybe an album. Each song — a different meaning, a different tune. Each song is something to memorize, something to comprehend, something to understand.

Neji is an album. Liminal. Temporary, but he is not insignificant. She needs him.

So she relishes in the moment. Breathes in everything she can see before her — all the little lights, the steakhouse, the bright neon lights of the city. It was silent, but it was that type of silence that was better off silent than not, and she liked it for that.

An ambulance noise and their little moment was over. Tenten was just too sad.

He watched as her eyes widened and stared at the floor.

"I hope you enjoyed it," Neji whispered, with that velvety vigor she loves so much. It draws her to him. He nodded, and she was reminded of that time in 5th grade when they were taught to dance and had to bow to their partner before they'd start.

"I did," she replied, breathless still, lifting up the hem of her trench coat and dipping to curtsy. Neji smiled, and it lit up her world once more.

Once again, she found she couldn't move. Her feet are glued to the floor and she can't move when she really wants to. It's his eyes again, so mysterious, and she's experiencing the feeling she had back at the studio.

"I 'd better go," she mumbles. She's disappointed and he knows it. Leaving seemed like such a difficult action — she can't get a grip no matter how hard she tries.

He shrugs. "Not all things in life are permanent."

She smiles back. "We're back there again, huh?"

"You have places to be in. People are after you. We can't risk that."

She sighed.

"I. Will. Miss. You."

Once she's turned around, she doesn't know if she should turn back or run, though before she can, she feels a tight grip on her wrist and she turns back immediately.

"Don't forget," he mutters, and a CD case is thrust into her trenchcoat before she finally dashes and jumps off the ceiling and into the streets.

Later that night, when she has found shelter in her cousin's dormitory, she takes out her record player and _Plastic Age_ surrounds the room.

Suddenly, time stops, and the earth tilts on it's axis.

This was the song she was thinking of.

* * *

 _I heard you on the wireless back in fifty two_

 _Lying awake intent at tuning in on you_

 _If I was young it didn't stop you coming through_

 _Oh-a oh_

 _You are a radio star_

 _You are a radio star_

* * *

 _-twinkies_

* * *

 _Until Then!_


End file.
